DISCLAIMER: Most of this isn't owned by me. But frankly, I sometimes wonder
if it is still owned by anyone.

RATING: PG-13

PAIRING: Mac/Alex

NOTE: As you can see in the pairing, this takes place in the "Salvation"
universe. Is it a sequel? An epilogue? The symbol of a new series? A sneaky way
of changing from fanfic to original fic? Or perhaps all of above? I don't know.
And I don't really care. As long as you enjoy.

If there's one thing I hate more than churches, it's. Actually, there isn't
anything I hate more than churches. But if churches didn't exist it would be.
bigots and other assorted bastards. Come to think of it, there are a lot of
things I hate more than dresses. But since there were no churches or bigots in
sight, dresses suddenly went way, way up in the top 10 of things I hate.

Main reason for this being the fact that I was now wearing one. And I wasn't
just wearing a dress. I also wore make-up and I spent an entire afternoon at a
hairdresser to make something beautiful out of my hair. Mom and dad were
delighted to see their pretty little girl all dressed up like that. Personally,
I felt like a Barbie doll, or maybe someone's pet fashion project. In any case I
didn't feel like me. I wear comfortable clothes and don't give a damn about the
way I look. I don't wear entire disaster areas just to look nice.

But I did tonight.

Because tonight was Prom Night and Alex had practically begged me to put on a
dress and everything.

Actually, she only asked once, but "begging" makes it sound like I put up a
fight. The only thing about my outfit that I didn't outright dislike were my
shoes. Sure, they weren't usual sneakers, they were chosen to match my dress,
but they fitted nicely and didn't come with any kind of heels.

So here I was, sitting in a chair, my parents sitting on the couch in front
of me, grinning at me inanely. They were probably hoping that this dressing up
suddenly meant that their dyke of a daughter started behaving more feminine,
like my sisters do (even Sam is girlier than I am). Maybe I should date a real
"butch" once, just to put my parents' ideas of "femininity" into perspective.

The doorbell rang.

Both my parents jumped from the couch, with dad instantly reaching for the
camera.

"Calm down, it's not Alex," I said, standing up from the chair. "The limo
hasn't picked her up yet, remember?"

"Of course," said mom. "But you just go get the door after all."

So, I went and got the door. When I opened it, I was suddenly under attack
from one of Trish' killer hugs. She was wearing a white dress, long white
gloves, high-heeled shoes, the whole nine yards.

"Hey Trish," I choked out. Behind me, the camera flashed and lit up the yard
in front of me.

I clambered into the back of the limo we had rented for the night and sat
down next to Sarah. Trish climbed in after me, sat down next to John and kissed
him. Yeah, that had been a real surprise. Miss Cheerful suddenly dating Mr
No-Emotion. Sure I'm happy for them, and they're happy with each other, but.
well. they're such an unlikely couple.

It's probably one of those opposites things.

"You look nice," said John. He was dressed in a simple tuxedo. For one brief
moment, I wanted to be a boy. Just so I could get out of this dress.

"Thanks," I said.

"Well I think you look ridiculous," Sarah said. She was dressed in a "Queen
of the Damned"-like black dress and heavy black combat boots.

"Same to you," I said grinning.

"Hey, it's a fashion statement," Sarah answered. She was smiling when she
said it, though.

After a while the limo stopped, which was the only hint I got that we had
been driving.

"Last stop," the voice of the chauffeur sounded through the thick black
glass.

I was suddenly feeling nervous. And excited. It's not a good mixture if you
want to think clearly. I remained seated, fumbling helplessly.

"Are you going or not?" Sarah asked.

"Sure," I said. I looked out of the window and towards her house. My
nervousness increased and so did my excitement.

"Oh come on, how bad could it be?" Trish said.

Not very bad. I knew that. But, sometimes, knowledge doesn't help when raw
instinct and hormones are playing havoc with your body.

"Well, here I go," I said and opened the door.

"If you don't make it back, we'll remember you fondly," Sarah said.

I smiled. It was a bad joke, but it eased my nervousness somewhat. That was
probably why Sarah told it in the first place.

I slowly walked up towards her house and her door, anxiety increasing with
every step. At some point I didn't know whether I should've been paralysed with
fear or panting with lust. I somehow managed to reach the front door. I looked
at the doorbell.

Had she come out to her parents? I suddenly wondered.

It wasn't a good time to be thinking about stuff like that. I mean, what if
she hadn't. There'd be trouble if a girl showed up as her prom date.

Maybe I should've gone back to the limo, let John pick her up.

No, that was cowardice.

It might've been sensible considering the circumstances, but it was still
cowardice. I had made it to the front door so there was no reason why I
shouldn't ring the doorbell.

Mind blank, eyes closed, I rang the doorbell.

The door was flung open, arms were wrapped around my shoulders and before I
knew it, Alex' tongue was down my throat.

I was too surprised to respond.

But, fortunately, not for long.

Guess she had come out to her parents after all.

A camera flashed, expertly catching the good Catholic schoolgirl tonguing the
lesbian witch. The Pope'd have a heart attack if he ever saw that.

"Have you been waiting behind the door?" I asked, when we finally broke
apart.

She smiled. "No, I've been waiting ever since you walked up the front lawn.
You took your merry time."

"I was nervous."

"Smile."

Alex and I turned around and faced her parents. They seemed nice enough, but
they made a strange couple. Alex' dad was pretty thin, while her mom was. well.
"fat" isn't a nice word, but it was accurate.

We smiled. The camera flashed.

We broke apart completely and I got a look at her for the first time. It was
probably a good thing that I hadn't seen her probably when she opened the door.
The combination of fear and lust would've made be pass out.

Alex looked gorgeous. Even more gorgeous than normal, I mean. Her dress was a
simple light green, but a bit too high cut for my tastes. She was wearing heels.
And a purse. In matching colours.

But heck, even though I didn't like her clothes, I liked the way she looked.
Liked the way she looked at me. Liked the way she sparkled because she was near
me.

I found myself crushing on her all over again.

"You look beautiful," she said.

"I should. You picked the dress," I said.

"Oh come on," she said, her hand rubbing my arm. "It's not that bad is it?"

"No, it's not that bad," I said. I wasn't lying. Not exactly. Right now, in
these circumstances, with her and just before the prom, it wasn't that bad.

From Alex house we went straight to the school. Due to budgetary concerns or
whatever, the dance was held in the gymnasium. It wasn't that bad. The music was
loud, the lights bright, the punch spiked, the supervising teachers quickly
getting drunk, the jocks getting loud, the cheerleaders getting even sluttier
and so on and so forth.

Just like any other dance, really.

Trish immediately dragged John over to the dance floor. He didn't object.
He's not exactly the dancing type, but he appreciates the fact that Trish is, so
he dances. Sarah walked over the punch and complained about the fact that there
wasn't even a proper bar or something. There was an empty ring around her.

People don't approach Sarah. She claims she doesn't mind. That she's much
happier off without everyone hanging around her. Sometimes I wonder if she's
telling the truth.

A slow number started and now I too had to face the music. Literally. Alex
guided me to the dance floor and looked at me. I didn't even hear the cries of
"check out the dykes" and whatnot.

We danced.

Wow, two simple words. Not nearly enough to describe what happened. And I
can't describe what happened. I can't dance and with that dress hindering me, I
can't dance at all. I didn't step on her toes, though and she didn't step on
mine.

I could sum up a whole lot of clichés about that dance. The world falling
away. I drowning in her eyes. Our two hearts beating as one. Nothing mattered to
us except each other. The list goes on and on. But none of those descriptions
are accurate enough, so best to keep it simple.

We danced.

After we had danced (and kissed and copped a feel and ignored the drunks who
had to tell the world that they thought we were really hot lesbos) we went to
the table Sarah was occupying.

"Having fun?" she asked.

"Shouldn't that be obvious?" I said.

She smiled. "I'm happy for you guys."

Alex and I both smiled back. It was the first time Sarah openly said
something actually positive about us.

"You don't hafta hang out with her," the guy said. "You can get better."

"Like you?" said Alex, venom dripping off every word.

"S right," he said.

"I'll pass."

"You don't mean that," he said. And then grabbed her breast.

Now, the most important rule in my religion, that one unbreakable law is "if
it harm none, do what ye will." At that point, I suddenly didn't feel all that
religious.

I yanked the drunk away from Alex, kneed him in the groin and, as he doubled
over, gave him an uppercut to the chin.

He fell over and landed unconscious on the floor. Not long after, he started
snoring. Another prime example of why I don't drink.

I silently apologised to my Goddess and promised both myself and Her that I'd
do something to make up for this act.

Alex took my hand and, after a quick peck on the cheek, said, "I think this
is our cue to leave."

"How'll you get home?" John asked.

"I have a cell phone, we can call a cab. You guys take the limo."

"OK," said John.

"Let us know who gets to be the king and queen," I said.

We said our goodbyes and left. We tried to find Sarah to say goodbye to her
as well. We couldn't find her. Some guy near the punch bowl managed to tell us
that she'd gone somewhere with some girl. Alex and I were both very interested
in this news, but since some of the Glasses started to look very threatening we
made a hasty exit.

We were standing in front of her house, the cab waiting patiently behind us.
I was nervous and I could tell she was too.

"This wasn't entirely the way I had planned the evening," she said.

"Same here."

"I had fun though."

"Yeah. Me too."

I took a step back and turned around, heading back for the cab.

"Mac?"

"Yeah?" I said, half turning around.

"Would you. would you like to stay?"

I was stunned. She was embarrassed.

"Sorry, I."

I turned completely towards her again. "Don't be."

"It's just that. I mean I know I. Mac I love you."

"I know," I said. "I love you too."

"And I trust you. Enough to. Mac, make love to me."

Stun moment number 2.

"You. you want me."

"I only had one experience, and I still wake up screaming because of it."

I knew what she meant. Not that I had ever experienced it, but she's said
enough for me to know that this was something she'd probably never get rid of
completely. Or should I say that she didn't say enough?

"Then why do you.?"

"People say it can be beautiful," she said. "I don't believe it. But with
you, maybe."

I nodded. I turned around, walked over the cab, paid the driver and walked
back to her. I took her hands into my own and kissed her.

"You won't have nightmares tonight," I said. "I promise."

The rest of that night was a bit like the dance we had during the prom. There
were no words to describe it. I could tell about how we moaned and groaned,
about sweat and panting. But that wouldn't cover it. Hell, that'd diminish what
we had.